More Than Empathy
by KaT aka Mistress Shinigami
Summary: [S/M] Insomnia + Miroku + Sango = romance? Midnight musings is more like it, as Miroku and Sango talk to eachother about the hurts in their lives...and the comfort of one another.


A/N: My first Inuyasha story, and it's a Miroku/Sango one. I like Inuyasha and Kagome as much as the next person...but there are so many stories for them, so I decided to compile one solely for Sango and Miroku. ^_^ Aww.

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, or any of its characters. But, of course...anyone reading this would have all ready known that. ~_^ Unless you're really stupid. 

More Than Empathy

Sango lie on her back, her eyes staring up into the clear nighttime sky. The absence of clouds allowed her to view the brilliant stars that dotted the sky liberally, along with the crescent moon that jutted angularly, sticking out from the soft spheres of the stars. Normally such a beautiful sight would calm her...but not tonight. Tonight, the stars simply reminded her of Kohaku, and the way his eyes would light up, like millions of tiny stars. They lit up after receiving praise, or watching a sunrise...or even something as simple as seeing a butterfly.  

His eyes didn't light up anymore, while he was under Naraku's control. His eyes were simply dulled, and he wordlessly followed orders. He lost the luster and youth that had once ignited him. And to Sango, he was no longer her brother. He was simply a tool of Naraku's, and he could never be her brother again. The demon huntress sighed at her melancholy thoughts, turning over onto her side so she wouldn't have to look at the stars. 

From where she was turned, Sango had a perfect view of each of her companions. Everyone appeared to be asleep, and it seemed she was the only one having this bout of insomnia. Miroku was leaning against the trunk of a tree, eyes closed and his staff resting in the grass at his side. Inuyasha rested on the tree a few branches up, his ears twitching unconsciously towards the soft sounds of the nighttime creatures. Kagome was curled up in...what was it she had called it? A sleeping bag? Shippou lay curled up at his surrogate mother's feet, on top of the...sleeping bag. Kirara, Sango noticed with a smile, was curled up next to Shippou, making soft mewing sounds in her sleep. 

This time, when Sango turned in her sleep she turned towards her other side, facing away from her companions. Why was it that she always felt so sad? True, when she was fighting off demons she was angry. Or when Miroku groped her she became angry. But she often felt like it was sadness that ruled her life. Kind of like it was overpowering all of her other senses, making them seem bland or insignificant. She tried to cover up hr sorrow with anger…but soon she found that it no longer worked. 

The sounds of someone rising broke the demon exterminator from her thoughts, and she lay very still, feigning sleep. When she heard the person begin to walk away, she raised her body on her elbows, turning her head towards the sounds. Her russet eyes widened when she saw it was Miroku that was walking away, his back to the group. Normally, it was Inuyasha who went off on such ventures this late at night, and that was only when he sensed a demon nearby. 

  


Sango lie very still for a while, gazing off into the direction the monk had gone. She tried to remind herself that Miroku was a grown man, and more than capable to go off on his own if he so chose to. Turning towards the tree, the young woman frowned, seeing that he had left his staff behind. Sango stood up quietly, slightly grateful for a chance to go after Miroku. She picked the golden staff from the ground, holding the rings in her free hand in order to keep them from ringing and waking the others. She left her boomerang where she had lain, having not really considered taking it with her. 

The demon huntress followed in the direction she had vaguely seen the monk walking in, and she finally met up with him. He was only a couple hundred meters away from their group, and was sitting in front of a lake with his back to her. She walked up behind him, seeing his expression clearly in the calm reflections of the lake. He was sitting cross-legged, gazing at his right hand with an unreadable expression, though he seemed troubled to Sango. He finally raised his eyes to the water, catching sight of Sango's reflection. His eyes widened, though his countenance still appeared to remain passive. He turned around, seeing the woman rather than her reflection. 

His lips turned upwards. "I thought I might be seeing things." He turned back around, choosing to gaze at Sango's reflection. "Forgive me for waking you." She shook her head, her unbound hair, falling across her shoulders. She had left her ribbon back at their campsite. 

"I was awake all ready." Somehow it seemed important that he knew this, though Sango wasn't quite sure why. Miroku nodded. 

"You were having trouble sleeping, as well," he stated, making his quiet observation known to her. Sango set the golden staff down on the ground behind Miroku, hearing the golden rings clink together, noisy in the otherwise still nighttime. 

She said, "You forgot this...back at the campsite." She could see his eyebrow quirk through the waters, and her eyebrows drew down in response. 

"Thank you, Lady Sango," he said formerly, but his tone belied his joking attitude. "But it appears you left hiraikotsu behind." Sango let out a soft "oh," unsuccessfully hiding a blush. In her haste to follow the monk, she had left her own weapon behind. She wasn't normally so careless...but then again, Miroku's presence had always somewhat...unnerved her. She acted in ways that were not usual of her. 

"Well, I was planning on leaving right away," she said quickly, which wasn't a total lie. Miroku's smile dropped, but the wind had blown at that precise moment, disrupting their reflections. When the water had calmed his smile was back in place, so Sango never knew the difference.

"Nonsense," he replied, patting the ground next to him. "Sit with me for awhile." Miroku found that he–almost desperately–needed someone to talk to. And who better than the demon exterminator he had grown to care so fondly for? At her hesitation he reached up, grasping her hand and pulling her lightly until she was seated close beside him. Sango, almost out of habit, began to scoot away from the monk until there was a good distance between them. 

'Why doesn't she trust me?' he wondered to himself silently, feeling an unfamiliar tug at his heart. He chuckled mentally wryly. He had never given her a reason to trust him. She was afraid to get close to him, for fear he might grope her–or something to that extent. In fact, he might as well have placed _distrust _into her. He felt another new feeling burgeon within him: self-loathing.

"I'm sorry," Miroku told her, glancing out of the corner of his eye at her confused expression.

"For what, Houshi-sama?" He couldn't be talking about pulling her down, could he? Somehow, Sango felt that it went deeper than that. 

Miroku felt his shoulders slump at the title, respectful though it was. They were supposed to be comrades...maybe even friends. "I'm sorry that you cannot trust me." The monk winced at his wording...it almost made it seem as though it was her fault. And that wasn't the case at all. 

  


"I _do _trust you," Sango insisted vehemently, scooting closer to Miroku to prove her point. "You've saved me in battle before, too." She was aware of how close she was sitting to her companion. She sincerely hoped he did not try to grope her...she really did–want–to trust him. "Please don't talk like that."

Tired of feeling so down, Miroku agreed to drop the subject. "All right, Sango." He looked towards her once more, and discovered her gaze transfixed on the heavens above them. He glanced up as well, taking in the thousands of stars that sprinkled the black sky. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he stated after a silence, feeling his neck stiffen from being bent back for such an extended period. He straightened his gaze (and his neck), looking over to find Sango looking at him, troubled. 

"I don't...really like it," she said honestly, dropping her gaze to the ground. Before Miroku could question, she continued, "The stars...they remind me of Kohaku's eyes...when he used to be happy...I always thought they sparkled like stars." She bit her lip, though her teeth were not sharp enough to break flesh. 

Miroku asked, "But shouldn't that gladden you, since you are reminded of happier times?" Sango shook her head.

"It reminds me that I–I couldn't save him...and that now, his eyes do not sparkle..." Miroku had to look down into the lake in order to see her face, since she had her head bent low. He could see her beautiful eyes, and he saw the glint and sparkle they held. He reached over, gripping her chin lightly in order to raise her head. 

"Look at your reflection. Sango," he commanded softly, and the demon exterminator felt her breath quicken at the close contact (in an _appropriate _area). But she did as she was told. "Your eyes sparkle, as well. And that should remind you that your brother is not completely gone, because he is always with you." Sango felt her vision becoming misty, but she shoved aside her tears, instead gripping tightly to the hand that held her face. She could feel the smooth surface of the rosary beads, and pulled his cursed hand away from her face, and held it out in front of her, cradling it between both her hands. He started to pull away...

"Miroku," she whispered, and the abrupt use of his name stalled his movements; Sango reclaimed his hand. "What about you? What keeps you awake at night?" He didn't answer, instead choosing to look out at the lake, seeing the stars reflected in the cool waters. He turned back towards the huntress when he felt her trace patterns lightly onto his palm, and it sent shivers through him, even with the cloth covering his hand. 

He controlled his voice. "Sango..."

"The hole is growing, right? The curse is growing," she said quietly, dropping her gaze down to his hand. Sango closed his fingers over his palm, pressing his hand into a fist. She then uncurled it, intertwining his fingers with hers. Miroku simply watched her with widened eyes...she, too, was surprised by her own actions. "But we're going to beat Naraku. We're going to avenge Kohaku." Her voice broke. "And you're not going to die, Miroku."

The monk frowned, but did not release her hand, and spoke up, "I'm not afraid of dying." Sango sighed, muttering something under her breath inaudibly. "What is it?"

"But we don't want to lose you," she insisted, almost wincing at the plural pronoun. Quietly, she thought, 'I don't want to lose you.' Miroku replied by giving her hand a light squeeze, and turning his gaze out across the lake. Another silence fell.

  


"I saw my father, when the air rip consumed him," he told her softly, still looking towards the water almost vacantly. "It was horrible...all that was left behind was a huge crater in the ground...it was terrible." His countenance became determined. "I don't want any of you to have to go through that, Sango." Miroku turned towards the exterminator, his expression becoming one of worry and disbelief. His voice grew louder. "Sango?"

The woman grew alarmed, wondering what was upsetting Miroku. He untangled their fingers, reaching up with his hand and brushing it against Sango's cheek, making her inhale sharply. His fingers came away moist...with her own tears. Sango turned away, immediately feeling betrayed by her normally strong, tough appearance. What happened to all of her will power? What happened to all of her sturdy barriers? Normally she could use her anger to hide every other emotion…but why wasn't it working? Miroku was making her feel compassionate; he was making her feel...feminine. Somehow, he always had a way of doing that. She never cried. 

"Sango...are you all right?" Stupid question, Miroku berated himself irately. He turned her towards him, but she kept her face gazing downwards, towards the ground. Suddenly, he felt the weight of her body being thrown against his as she dove towards him, and he wrapped his arms around her as she nestled her face into the crook of his neck. He could feel her tears hot against his skin, and the soft sobs she was trying desperately to hide. Miroku tried whispering comforting words, holding her with one hand and using the other–his cursed one–to stroke her hair. He never once tried to grope her, though, given the situation, it would have been easy enough. Even if it was only this once, she was trusting him. And he wanted to keep it that way. 

After awhile, he felt her lips move against his neck as she spoke something indiscernible. He queried, "Hmm?"

Sango repeated her statement. "You're being awfully empathetic tonight....Miroku." Her voice sounded soft and sleepy, and her breath brushed against his skin as she talked. He tried (quite unsuccessfully) to ignore it.

In an equally soft voice, Miroku confessed, "No, it's more than empathy..." When Sango didn't reply, the monk looked down, only to discover she had fallen asleep curled up against him. He smiled lightly, standing up while cradling her against him. He almost tripped over his staff, but managed to carry it back to camp, as well, and, luckily, everyone was still sleeping. He lay the woman down beside hiraikotsu, smiling as she unconsciously curled up at the loss of his body heat. Miroku then leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the demon exterminator's forehead. 

"Sweet dreams, Sango-chan," he whispered softly, before turning and leaning against the tree, ready to keep his silent vigil over his beloved, as he waited for the sun to rise. 

~The End~

A/N: I really intended this to be a one-shot...but I may write more Inuyasha stories in the future. Thanks for reading and...please, please review!!!                      


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